In the Serpent's Lair
by LittleMissWeasley
Summary: When Ginny is sorted into Slytherin, she thinks her life will end. However, it is just beginning. WARNING: Rape in chapter five, don't read if you can't deal.
1. Chapter 1 Some Will Seek Forgiveness

Some Will Seek Forgiveness

_A/N: This fic has been developing in my head for a long time now, but I was inspired to write it by another Ginny/Slytherin fic, _The Unforgettable Fire, _by _TheLabris_. The idea of having it as a diary/flashback fic was inspired by that fic, too. Please R&R!_

**Here's my kiss to betray (Kiss to betray)  
Desperate to brush the lips of grace (Brush the lips of grace)  
Do you feel hollow when you think of how I lied?**

_Some Will Seek Forgiveness, Others Escape - UnderOath_

I was numb.

I was totally devoid of any emotions. But that worked, I guess, for what I was, I mean.

I was a Slytherin.

I just stood there, staring out at everyone. Do you know how intimidating that is, having every single student and teacher at Hogwarts just stare at you? I didn't think so. I just stood there on the stage until McGonagall pushed my slightly, and told me to go and sit at my table. She spat the words "your table", as if sitting at the Slytherin table was something worthy to be sentenced to a lifetime at Azkaban for, which, in my opinion, it was. When you grow up with a whole family of Gryffindors, and then get put into Slytherin, that happens to you. It disgusted me. I tried as best I could to walk to the table and not puke on the way. Or worse, cry.

I was the misfit – the oddball if you will. But when I actually sat at the table and thought about it, Slytherin was the only place that I really fit. I was smart, smarter then any Ravenclaw, perhaps, but I would not be welcomed there. They would have been jealous, and shunned me. I was not loyal enough to be in Hufflepuff, and was more likely to run off with whatever would save me. Well, I was at that point in time, anyhow. And, most unfortunately (for my parents, not me) I was _definitely _not Gryffindor material. I was the misbehaver in the family, more so than Fred or George, even, and if you were in Gryffindor, you couldn't do anything wrong, you had to be good. The snake that was coiled in the bottom of my stomach was unfurling, getting ready to strike at the opportune moment.

I was the only one sorted into Slytherin that year, and I was outraged at my parents' reaction. _"Ginny, dear, don't worry, Ron told us. We don't care that you were sorted into Slytherin, we know you, and you are a Gryffindor at heart…" _and it went on and on in the same fashion. I cut that part of the letter out, and charmed it onto my reply, which consisted simply of _"I guess you don't know me all that well then." _It broke my mother's heart, and I didn't receive another letter from her during all my first year, except at Christmas, though I did not receive as extravagant a present as I usually did.

I was eleven years old, a Slytherin of two days, and I was already turning into a cold-hearted bitch. Draco Malfoy was proud of me. He came into my room that night for some reason. I remember it very clearly though…

She was sitting on her bed crying. Her vanity mirror was broken from the Transfiguration textbook she had thrown at it in a fit of rage. She heard nothing as the door creaked open, her wracking sobs drowning out the sound of his footsteps. She moved her hair so it shielded her bloodshot eyes. "What do you want, Malfoy?" She spat the last word as though it was a foul curse word leaving her tongue.

"_Why, to have my way with you, of course." He drawled sarcastically, a cold, malicious glint in his eyes, making it seem as though that was what he had intended to do, indeed._

"_Well, you might as well get on it then, you wouldn't want people knowing you'd been defiled by a Weasley now, would you? Bloody fucking pure-bloods."_

"_Oh, very nice, Weasley, I wouldn't have expected such a reaction. You really are turning into a feisty little bitch, aren't you? Welcome to Slyth--"_

_He reeled backwards, the tender flesh of his cheek already taking on a pinkish tinge where she had slapped him. He had known she would. Hell, he had provoked her even. He just hadn't expected her to be so damn strong._

"_You _would _have done well in Slytherin. If you weren't a Weasley, that is. Rude little bitch." He drawled, attempting a smirk but failing, the pain in his cheek taking the better of him._

"_Get the hell OUT OF MY ROOM!" she screamed at him, and he ran._

What, you didn't get the part where he was proud of me? For the love of fake-wands, do I have to explain everything to you? OK, you know the part where he said, "You would have done well in Slytherin"? There, it's _right there_! That is the biggest compliment that a Slytherin knows how to give to someone, especially someone from a family of Gryffindors, _especially_ a Weasley.

He came the next night too. And the next, and every night after that, too. We always had the same "conversation", but changed. His insults were less and less fierce, and I was less inclined to speak the words I always had, and was less rude to him each time he came. We actually had a real conversation once. Almost.

"_Why do you do it?" she asked him._

_He jumped, startled. He hadn't heard her come into the common room. He looked around, they were totally alone._

"_Why do I do what?" he questioned._

"_Why do you come into my room every night? I know you don't do it because you want to. So why?"_

_At this, she saw a spark flare to life in his eyes. _Ah, _she thought, _so I **am** more than just a bunch of red hair to him.

"_How they hell do you know I don't come because I want to?" she was slightly startled by his reaction, and saw him visible calm himself before continuing on with his answer. _

"_I come because I think you need someone to talk to. I don't want you to be upset, why I'm not quite sure, but I don't think that it is healthy for a little girl to be on her own with no one to talk to._

I do have someone to talk to, _she thought, _you just don't know him._ She was thinking of Tom. He was her diary._

OK, let my just take a moment to explain who exactly "Tom" was. It was a diary I had found in my trunk. It wasn't _my _diary, my diary had Mrs Harry Potter scribbled across the front and crossed out. I figured my parents had bought me a going away present.

I had started to tell it everything, telling how I, Ginvevra Anne Weasley, was falling in like (not love) with Draco Malfoy, the forbidden treasure. At least, that was how I saw it.

When the ink disappeared, I didn't even realize that something might have been wrong. I just thought that it was like a pensive, and that you could call the entries back at will, when or if you wanted to read them again was your choice.

When Tom started to write back, I totally freaked. He was comforting, though, like the friend I had never found. He told me that I was insane for thinking that I wasn't going to make it in Slytherin just because I came from a family of Gryffindor blood traitors. He convinced me that, just because my parents were blood traitors, that didn't make me one by proxy.

Anyway, on with the flashback!

_She looked up at him, defiance in her eyes._

"_I like not having room mates. It means I can decorate however I like." This made him chuckle._

"_You certainly make for more interesting company than Crabbe and Goyle, those pathetic excuses for humans couldn't recognize a joke if it danced naked in front of them. You're a right site prettier, too."_

_She blushed the famous Weasley blush (which was almost as famous as the Weasley hair and temper)._

"_I don't know whether to be offended, that I am merely more interesting than gorillas, or to be complimented that you called me pretty. Which I'm not, by the way."_

"_And why would you think that?"_

"_Well, as you will have noticed, I'm flatter than you are, my hair is way too thick and unruly, my skin is too pale, I have too many freckles, and, oh yeah, it looks like some one lit a match on top of my head!" _

_She said this all in one sentence, and it may well have been the longest sentence ever said in the Slytherin common room, or perhaps in all of Hogwarts._

_He looked her over a few times and thought carefully before he replied._

"_You are pretty. Don't interrupt!" he said quickly, because her mouth was open as if she was ready to do just that. "As I was saying. You are pretty. You are flat now, yes, but you'll fill out soon enough. You hair is thick, but it is beautiful, and is the perfect shade of copper. Yes, your skin is pale, and yes, you have freckles, but your skin has a healthy glow. And did no one ever tell you that freckles are a sign of beauty?" He blushed suddenly, apparently aware of what he had just said._

_She looked at him for a moment, a small smile breaking out on her face. It was the first true smile that had beaten down the boundaries since she had been sorted into Slytherin, and then replied,_

"_You don often hear that freckles are beautiful around Weasleys. All the men would think you were calling them poofs!" She giggled nervously, then let it break out into full blown laughter, which quickly turned itself into crying. _

_She was letting out all of the tears she had repressed since the first day, and she could do nothing about the flow. She couldn't stop it, or delay it. She turned, and ran up the stairs to her room, and flopped down on the bed, too late to save her pride._

_She hadn't expected a Slytherin to be the one who made her believe she was beautiful. Tom certainly never had._

That was when I tried to get rid of him. No, not him being Draco, him being Tom. I threw the diary down Moaning Myrtle's toilet, and flushed, hoping it would be taken to the bottom of the Great Lake.

How surprised I was when it turned out Draco had been right! By Christmas time, I had filled out considerably, resorting to stealing Parkinson's bras until I could have my mother send me my own. I only used them after a deep scouring charm, obviously.

My mother was furious when it she found out I had bought bras with what was supposed to be money for a gift for myself. I had bought them in hopes I would be needing them when school started up. Which I hadn't. She sent them without too much fuss (well, without a Howler, at least).

Unfortunately, when I had finally managed to rid myself of almost all memories of Tom, I heard my brother (the obnoxious one, Ron), his "friend" (whom he had a huge crush on, which was obvious to everyone except him, Hermione) and his other best friend (the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter) talking about the diary at breakfast one morning. I panicked. What if Tom spilled my secrets about being in like (not love) with Draco? About how I wished I would fill my skin?

I had no other option. I had to get that diary back. I needed something. I needed the perfect plan.

_She had borrowed Draco's invisibility cloak, and cast a disillusionment charm on herself for good measure. There was no way she would be seen. She waited at the top of the marble staircase that led into the Entrance Hall, up from the dungeons._

_She was waiting for the perfect victim. And there he was. He was only a first year, like herself. He was the one who always carried the camera around, hoping to get a picture with the "Boy Wonder" -- Creevey. She followed him up the seven flights of stairs (which was no mean feat when one is under an invisibility cloak) and to the portrait of the lady in the hideous pink dress, which was far too tight. She heard him mumble a password, and she slipped in behind him._

_She ran up the stairs to the second year boys dorm, and began tearing the drawers out of the dresser, scattering the content of his backpack, and ripping open his bed clothes._

_She finally found the diary at the bottom of his trunk. She clutched it to her chest, and strode proudly out of the room, like a seeker that had just made the most difficult catch in history. As she passed her brothers bed, she made sure to spit on it for good measure._

_She passed her brother and the rest of the Golden Trio as she made her way back to the Slytherin common room, being led back to the dormitories by that dunderhead, Longbottom. _He should have been a squib even he knew what was good for him_, she thought savagely._

_It scared her that, even in her thoughts, she was sounding more and more like a Slytherin everyday._

Not much else worth recording happened that year. Who am I kidding! TONS of stuff happened!

_Ginny had gone to bed later than usual that night. Draco, however, was perfectly on time, as usual. He waltzed into her room just as she was taking off her shirt to change into her pajamas. She was so used to the sound of him coming in that she didn't pay any attention to it, as if it wasn't there. Just as she reached around to unclasp her bra, he spoke, and thus alerted her to his presence._

"_My, my, my. This is my first prediction to ever come true! You did fill out!"_

_She screamed and threw her shirt at his head, and he didn't stop laughing till she screeched,_

"_How much did you see!" She was red faced and furious now._

"_Enough to give you a warning. Keep your black robes on at all times. They are loose, right?" He raised an eyebrow as she gave up trying to cover herself with her school skirt._

"_Yes, but I don't understand why."_

"_Look at it this way: how many of the boys in Slytherin would you ever go out with?"_

_She looked embarrassed, but answered, "one."_

_Draco looked surprised. "Who?"_

_She now bore an expression of complete amazement. "I'll be damned if I tell you who it is. You wouldn't stop talking about it for years! But continue on with your lesson."_

"_Oh, um, right," he stumbled over his words as he tried to stop thinking about who this mystery man could be. "Well, the Slytherins don't have the best reputation, right?"_

_She murmured a reply as she pulled her pajama top over her head._

"_Well, put it this way. I don't mean to sound crude, but if they saw your goods, they would never leave you alone. They would pressure you. I do not want that happening to the only pretty looking eleven year old in Hogwarts."_

_She mumbled something indistinct. He raised his eyebrow in question._

"_Sorry, I didn't quite catch that."_

"_I said I'm twelve. My birthday was September 4, and you have to be at least eleven to come to Hogwarts. I was eleven here for a grand total of three days."_

_Draco was shocked. Merlin, she was only 12 days younger than him. This was strange._

_Her eyes welled with tears as she processed what he was saying. The tears quickly vanished, however, and her voice took on a steely edge._

"_Teach me the Bat-Bogey Hex. NOW!"_

_Four hours and thirty minutes later, Ginny had successfully managed to attach great flapping bogeys to Malfoy's face five times._

"_Congratulations are in order, I believe, Miss Weasley – "_

"_Ginny." She corrected._

"_Fine, Ginny then. You have mastered the art of the Bat-Bogey Hex. Well done!"_

OK, so maybe it doesn't seem like tons of stuff, but trust me, when you are twelve, that is a hell of a lot of stuff. The next big thing was the Chamber. I don't remember detail, but you can hear what I know.

_Ginny lost her innocence the day she was snatched into the Chamber, but retained it in all the most important ways. She was possessed and taken down through a sink, of all things. And in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. She spoke in a language she had never heard before but was sure she could speak. She remembered being beaten, emotionally and physically, by Tom, before being left for dead on the cold, hard, slimy floor._

_She remembered waking in Harry's arms, next to the corpse of a sixty foot long snake. She remembered garbling a load of nonsense about something, and then breaking down outright and crying. She remembered seeing her parents disappointed faces and not caring. The thing that stood out most prominently in her memory was Draco holding her as she cried herself to sleep._

Draco holding me as I cried seemed to make it all better. I learned later that Tom was gone, that Harry had killed him, and destroyed the diary. I also began to feel that I was moving from having fallen in like with Draco, and that it was evolving into love.

I left Hogwarts for the summer intending to write Draco every week. I was devastated when he told me he was leaving to go to Spain for the summer, and had no address. I left Hogwarts for the summer feeling totally heart-broken. I knew though, that the first thing I was going to do was go out and buy myself a nice, muggle diary.


	2. Chapter 2 Innocent

Innocent

_A/N: This year will be in two or three parts, I haven't decided yet. R&R as usual._

**And while he wishes he could escape this  
But it all seems so contagious  
Not to be yourself and faceless  
And a song that has no soul**

I remember feeling low  
I remember losing hope  
And I remember all the feelings and the day they stopped

_Innocent – Our Lady Peace_

I was back for the worst summer of my life. How to describe it is one simple word – cold. No, not weather wise, its always hot in Egypt, but emotionally. There are many things that I can explain using the word cold in the sentence. My mother was giving me the cold shoulder. My brothers (all except Bill, he always was and still is my favourite) were avoiding me like a cold that they didn't want to catch. My father described my eyes as cold and empty.

How can you tell when someone has turned Slytherin in their heart, and not just their house? Look at their eyes. Look at the emotions that play across them, or the lack thereof. That was me. I had empty eyes. The only emotions that ever played across _my _eyes were hurt, grief, pain, and anger. Other than that, they were just cold and empty.

We won the _Daily Prophet_ draw, and mum and dad took us all to Egypt to see Bill. Ron got a new wand (the idiot broke his old one on some tree), Fred and George a book of pranks (what were they thinking? Or were they thinking at all?), and Percy got a beautiful, expensive, heron-feather quill. I was given the leftovers – four galleons, twelve sickles, and a knut.

Much to my mother's dismay, I bought (with help from some of my pocket money) a Slytherin-green jumper, with silver detailing around the cuffs, neckline (which was dangerously low), and hemline, a dark green tank top to go underneath, and a beautiful silver necklace with an ornate charm in the form of a snake hanging from it. It took about fifteen galleons out of my savings, but it was totally worth it! My parents wanted me to take them back, but really just couldn't face the fact that I would be a teenager soon (twelve days!).

---

I shut myself in my room for the month before we left for Egypt, and spent as little time as possible in my room at the Leaky Cauldron, seeing as I had to share a room with the Mudblood Granger.

While we were at the Burrow, I was barely eating, barely sleeping, performing magic illegally (the Ministry can only tell where the magic is coming from, not who), and moving from my spot on the bed only to change books or to use the bathroom. Why? Because I had no one at home. No one who understood why I was a Slytherin. No one but me.

Basically all I did in my room was read. I read my way through all of the books in our house, including my brothers' old school books, and Percy's "Learning to Apparate – though we strongly suggest brooms" pamphlet. I had mastered more spells than any of them ever had, AND learned to Apparate in that month, though no one except Draco knows it.

---

On the train to Hogwarts, I met up with Draco. I was so happy to see him, I had to hold myself back so I didn't run up to him and hug him. When he saw me, he gave me a nod and motioned for me to follow him. So I did.

_They found a compartment together –_

Sorry, but I have to interrupt, but when it says "together", it means together with those two buffoons Crabbe and Goyle. They seemed to have gotten even stupider over the summer. OK, continue!

_- and they just sat and talked. He told her about the excitement of his summer, and she told him about her lack of it. She told him of her studies, and he was genuinely impressed. She showed him what had come of her Patronus so far, and he was even more impressed. It didn't have a clearly defined form, yet, but looked to be some huge cat._

_He told her about his fabulous trip to Spain, and how he had seen the vineyards that he would one day own, run, and, most importantly, make money from. He told her of the house he stayed in, with its green shutters, all the way down to the silvery-green carpet. It truly was a Slytherin house._

_That's when it happened. They felt it coming, the happiness and ease of the situation was being sucked out of the air, and the smell of rotting flesh intruding into the compartment. Draco grabbed Ginny's hand and dragged her down the corridor._

"_Follow me! This way!" he yelled over his shoulder. They sped into the closest compartment that was free of the – whatever it was. It was, to Ginny's horror, Fred, George, and Lee Jordan's compartment. Then it invaded their compartment._

Do you know what it was? It was a Dementor, one of those vile, soul-sucking beings. I remembered the worst times of my life. I remembered falling of Bill's broomstick, and breaking my ankle in 3 places when I hit the ground. I remembered being walloped with mum's wooden spoon for setting the chickens loose – again. I remembered many of the things Tom had shown me, but was surprised when being sorted into Slytherin wasn't in the mix. I realize now that being sorted into Slytherin was one of the best things that happened to me in my life.

_Draco was screaming. Screaming, and unnaturally close to crying. Slytherins didn't cry. Slytherins were supposed to be cold and unable to cry. Fred and George couldn't even make a joke about it, that's how terrible the thing was. They just sat there, looking morbid. As it left, the room seemed to visibly brighten. Draco was still as pale as a ghost, and was shaking uncontrollably._

_Ginny walked over to him and put her arm around his shoulders. He flinched at the contact, but relaxed and allowed her to steer him back to their compartment, blasting one Dementor on the way, and her Patronus turned out to be a panther._

_She sent Crabbe and Goyle to find another compartment, and she stayed with Draco while he regained his composure._

This was the year I discovered my gift. I was asleep earlier than I usually was, but this didn't stop Draco, of course.

_Gryffindor had just lost their match against Hufflepuff. Draco, who would have been ecstatic about this, was even happier, as the Boy Wonder had fallen off his broom. _

_He burst into her room, not caring that she was asleep, raving about how brilliant it had been to watch Potter plunge to the ground. The noise woke Ginny, and instinctively, she went for her wand, and threw out her hand to guard herself from who ever it was._

_Ginny wasn't, however, ready for the onslaught of emotions and thoughts that invaded her mind, yet somehow she knew that they didn't belong to her._

_She felt like she was light enough to float on air, yet she could sink to the bottom of the deepest ocean at the same time. The glee she felt turned quickly to worry, and then she was snapped back to reality by a pair of strong hands gripping her and shaking her shoulders._

"_Ginny? Ginny, wake up! What's wrong Ginny? Oh, Merlin, what did I do?"_

_She felt the arms scoop her up, and start running with her. Then the struggle for consciousness began, and she gave in easily to the blackness that enveloped her mind._

_Days passed before Ginny woke to startling, pristine white. _Of course, _she thought, _I must be in the hospital wing._ She didn't remember how she got there, or when it was, but she managed to register that Draco was asleep in the chair next to her bed._

_She needed Madame Pomfrey, she realized, as a pain shot through her chest as she tried to sit up. She let out a strangled cry, and barely managed to stay on the bed, as she grew light-headed from the pain._

_She threw her pillow at Draco in a desperate attempt to wake him. He woke with a start, and jumped as he saw her face turning blue from lack of oxygen. A look of comprehension dawned on his face as he ran to get the matron, and she passed out again._

I can't tell u what my gift was now, because I didn't know what it was then, and you have to go in chronological order for these things. I was out for three more days, and I can assure you that it wasn't Draco by my side when I woke up…

"_Professor Dumbledore, Professor Snape, what a pleasure it is to see you, may I inquire as to why you are at Miss Weasley's bedside?" Ginny heard the matron ask._

"_Yes, I'd quite like to know that, myself," Ginny added, startling everyone, as they didn't know she was awake._

"_Well, Poppy," Professor Dumbledore stated, "when you informed us that you could find nothing wrong with Miss Weasley here, other than the fact that she has been unconscious for days, I was intrigued."_

"_Oh, well, its nice to know that I am merely an investigation, but I feel rather dir- ah!" she screamed as she was attacked by a less violent onslaught of visions, but she was not prepared._

_Thoughts of some kind of power and (most strangely) sherbet lemons were drifting through her mind. She guessed these must be Professor Dumbledore's thoughts. But they were there only to be replaced with thoughts of --_

"_No matter what you may think, _Professor _Snape, I am not merely acting or trying to deceive anyone, neither am I lying here simple to get out of class." Ginny said this quietly, yet there was no doubt she was angry._

_Snape just sat there, a pale pink flush rising up into his sallow skin. He tried, unsuccessfully, to think of a witty remark, but could barely manage a sneer. _

"_My dear Miss Weasley, have you any idea how much of a rarity you are?" Professor Dumbledore exclaimed, visibly excited, barely restraining himself enough to stay in his chair._

"_What, being a Weasley in Slytherin doesn't make me rare enough already?" she sneered. Professor Dumbledore pretended not to have heard her, and continued on, "My dear girl, you are, unmistakably, an empath!"_

A/N: Ah-ha! I left you with a cliffhanger! I'm sorry it took so long for me to update, but there will be more to come!


	3. Chapter 3 What If We Could

What If We Could

A/N: I am so sorry it took so long for me to update! I know, I know, it's been, what? 2 years? Well, it's a new year now, and my resolution is this: at least one chapter every month!!! Yes, that's right, you heard it here first! Lol now, here's the chapter!

**It's like a last chance  
For a first dance  
You're a sunrise  
Can't somehow exist  
I would meet you  
Would you meet me**

_What If We Could – Blue October_

"_My dear Miss Weasley, have you any idea how much of a rarity you are?" Professor Dumbledore exclaimed, visibly excited, barely restraining himself enough to stay in his chair._

"_What, being a Weasley in Slytherin doesn't make me rare enough already?" she sneered. Professor Dumbledore pretended not to have heard her, and continued on, "My dear girl, you are, unmistakably, an empath!"_

This could have been both the best and worse news I would ever receive in my life. I knew what am empath was, of course, but empaths didn't survive past 8, and here I was, 13 years old, and the only one in Britain? This was just not possible! Fortunately, (and unfortunately), it was.

"_I'm a what?"_

"_An empath, Miss Weasley, a woman who has the ability to-"_

"_-read minds at will, yes I know, but that's not possible, the only living empath died 5 years ago, and she was 8!"_

_Dumbledore shifted his glasses and began to think. "What exactly happened that put you here, Miss Weasley?" he asked calmly._

"_I-I'm not sure. I can't remember …"_

Of course, it was a lie, I obviously knew how I got there, I would have been an idiot not to, but I didn't want to admit Draco had been coming into my room, it wasn't allowed. Snape was there, so he might have done something to get Draco out of trouble, had he known, but I wouldn't have been so lucky.

"_Well, Miss Weasley, we will have to get you training for this. Luckily, I myself am a self-proclaimed expert in the field of empathy, and we will start your training immediately." Dumbledore continued._

"_No, sir, please, I really don't want this gift, I don't want training, I just want to be Ginny Weasley, that's all I am sir." Ginny was buying for time, and she knew it. She had a plan to get out, but needed Dumbledore and Snape to cooperate._

"_Miss Weasley, why are you still in the hospital wing?" Snape snarled, his upper lip curling. "If you can make a point that clearly, then you do not need to be here."_

_Anyone else would have thought Snape was just being a cold, arrogant bastard at this point, but the look in his eyes showed Ginny that he knew her plan. She just didn't know how._

Well, I didn't then, I most definitely do now. Sodding legilimens. Luckily I got to leave the hospital wing as soon as Madame Pomfrey did one last examination.

As soon as I got back to my room, Draco was there.

"_Well, what the fuck is this about you being an empath?" he demanded._

"_I don't know, I didn't even know I was one." She retorted. Ginny began to undress, unfazed by Draco's presence._

_Draco began to look her up and down as she undressed, wondering how any second year could look that good. But no, he couldn't think like that, she was a Weasley, he was a Malfoy, it just didn't happen._

"_Wait, if you're an empath, does that mean you can tell what I'm thinking at any given moment?" _

"_Only if there's a strong emotion attached to it. So if there's something you don't want me knowing, don't think about it around me." She smirked, knowing that Draco was no good at hiding anything from her intentionally._

"_Bit bloody hard to do that," he muttered, "especially when it's …"_

"_What was that? I couldn't hear you."_

"_Never mind." He cast around for another topic of conversation. "Want to play truth or dare?" _ How lame am I! _he though, _truth or dare, of all things!

"_Sure, why not? Ok, I'll go first. Truth or dare?"_

"_Dare." He replied, not missing a beat._

"_I dare you to … take your shirt off." _

_Draco looked a little shocked by this, but easily slipped his shirt over his head, showing off taut muscles from years and years of Quidditch training._

"_Truth or dare?"_

"_Truth." _Damnit! _he thought, _I wasn't prepared for this.

"_Um, ok, you remember when you told me you would only ever consider going out with one guy in our house?"_

"_Yeah …" she replied, somewhat uneasily._

"_Who was it?"_

"_That's not fair!" she was buying for time, and she knew it. She just couldn't admit it to anyone but herself._

"_Come on! Who is it?" and he pounced on her, tickling her mercilessly until she finally decided to give in._

"_OK! OK! I'll tell you. It's um, well, it's …"_

"_Who?"_

_She muttered something incoherent._

"_What?"_

"_I _said_ it's you." She blushed furiously, not believing that she had said it._

"_Really? Well, that's interesting. Your turn." He smirked, pleased with himself for a reason he couldn't fathom. She was a _Weasley_, for Merlin's sake._

"_Truth or dare?"_

"_Dare."_

"_Take your pants off."_

"_What? Are you methodically undressing me?" he said, grinning wolfishly._

"_Perhaps." She grinned right back at him, not taking her eyes off him for a minute. He sighed, and removed his pants, immediately grabbing a pillow to hide exactly how much he liked her._

"_Truth or Dare?"_

"_Dare."_

"_Strip to your underwear."_

"_Are you kidding me? I just finished getting redressed!" It was a stupid question, and she knew it. Draco Malfoy _never _kidded about anything. Hesitantly, she peeled off her shirt, then, buying for time, bent down and slowly took off her shoes and socks. _

_She heard him release a breath as she took off her pajama pants and sit on the bed cross-legged. _

"_Truth or dare?"_

"_What?" He was snapped from his revere as she asked him. He had been staring at her, and he knew she knew it. He had started at her breasts, round and full and soft-looking, and far too big for any thirteen year old. Not that she was huge, just … farther ahead than others in that respect. His eyes had traveled down her flat stomach, and had just about to look farther down when she had rudely awakened him._

"_Uh, dare, I guess."_

"_Ginny!" a yell came from outside her door. "Ginny Weasley, are you in there?"_

"_It's Snape!" she whispered, her eyes scanning the room for somewhere for Draco to hide. "Quick! Take your clothes and get under the bed!"_

"_Miss Weasley, answer me!" _

"_One moment professor!" But Snape didn't wait for anyone. He barged right in, and Ginny, still in her underwear (which was not exactly the most modest she owned) was bending over picking up her clothes, her rear end facing the door._

_Snape stopped, shocked, his eyes roaming over her small bum. Ginny screeched and grabbed her sheets, trying to cover herself as much as possible. He snapped to attention, remembering why he had arrived in her room in the first place._

"_I have to talk to you about your … gift." He began, trying to get the image of her arse out of his mind._

"_What is it, Sir?"_

"_Well, this may be a little odd, but you won't be able to control your powers for a while."_

"_Why not? I mean, I have a pretty good self-control."_

"_That's not it. It's … um … oh, Merlin … you cant control the empathy until you have been … broken."_

"_In what sense? Like a bone? Because Merlin knows I've broken enough of them."_

"_Know, as in your … virtue has to be broken." Snape blushed, making his sallow skin look rather sickly._

"_My virtue? My vir- … OH!" Ginny was horrified by this. She had to … do it … before she could control her empathy??? That was just sick, she was only thirteen for crying out loud!_

"_Well, that is all, Miss Weasley. You can, um, dress yourself, now." He said, his eyes wandering to where her covers had fallen in her surprise. She immediately yanked them up as her Head of House left her dorm._

"_Bloody hell, what was that all about?" Draco said, emerging from under the bed. Ginny had totally forgotten about him with all the commotion._

"_You heard, I've got to lose it before I can control my empathy. For God's sake, I'm never going to be able to control it now." She said as tears started rolling down her cheeks._

"_Why not? I mean, what's the difference now and then?"_

"_You can be so stupid sometimes Draco! What boy is going to want to do it _me_?"_

_Draco looked at her, and gently brushed his thumb across her cheek, wiping away her tears. "You'd be surprised." He murmured, and he gently kissed her lips. "You'd be surprised…"_

Haha! It's Cliffhanger time! Lol next chapter should be up within a month. Enjoy guys!


	4. Chapter 4 Emergency

Emergency

A/N: Hey guys! Hope you liked that last chapter! I didn't mean to leave it on a cliffhanger … well, maybe I did, haha! Lol well, here it is!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of it's characters/ideas. If I did, I wouldn't be broke.

**So you give up every chance you get  
Just to feel new again**

I think we have an emergency  
I think we have an emergency

And you do your best to show me love,  
but you don't know what love is.

we have an emergency  
So are you listening?

_Emergency - Paramore_

Oh my God! _Draco thought, _What am I doing? I'm kissing a Weasley! No, not just any Weasley, Ginny Weasley!

_Ginny was reveling in the feeling of his mouth on hers, the one thing she had been waiting for for so long. His lips were soft and smooth. Ginny let out a contented sigh, allowing Draco to further deepen the kiss. He slipped his tongue inside her mouth as she wound her fingers in his hair. Her knees hit the back of the bed, and he came tumbling down on top of her._

_The sudden jolt brought Ginny back to where she was. _I cant do this, _she thought as his hand crept under the hem of her shirt, and began to rub her back, _this is wrong.

"_Draco, I cant do this," she whispered, breaking off the kiss, "we need to stop."_

"_Why, what's wrong?" he asked, his eyes searching her face._

"_I don't know, it just feels strange. I mean, you don't feel strange, its just, this feels strange, whatever this is, and I …I just don't know anymore." Tears began to roll down her cheeks._

_Draco put his hand on her thigh, "It's okay, I shouldn't have …" but Ginny couldn't hear anymore. Such a strong feeling of lust and like and regret and shame washed over her as the image of her and Draco kissing invaded her mind. She couldn't take it anymore, it hurt so bad. She collapsed to the floor, writhing and screaming in agony. The last thing Ginny Weasley saw was Draco running out of the door in his boxers and t-shirt, and then the blackness over took her mind._

_Ginny's head felt like it was about to split in two as the bright, white light penetrated her eyelids. _Where the hell am I?_ she thought._

"_Welcome back to consciousness, Miss Weasley." _Ah, that's where I am, the hospital wing.

_As Madame Pomfrey came over and began inspecting her, Ginny saw two figures standing behind her. She inwardly groaned, _oh, no, not again._ It was none other than Snape and Dumbledore, waiting to question her again, no doubt._

"_Can you explain yourself this time, Miss Weasley?" Snape sneered. "Can you remember now?"_

"_I – I don't know." She lied, intent on not giving anything away. "I have no idea."_

"_Well, we do. And so does young Mr. Malfoy, here." Ginny's breath caught in her throat as Draco emerged, still dressed in nothing but his boxers and t-shirt. She couldn't have been out long, then, if he still wasn't dressed._

"_How long have I been out?" she asked, trying to divert the topic._

"_Two hours, but let's stay on subject, shall we? I have had to draw my own conclusions as to what has happened. Draco here won't speak, but considering the fact that he somehow knew you were in your bedroom on the floor, and given your … apparel, I would think it was quite clear that several rules have been broken." Snape appeared to be waiting for an answer, but instead Ginny replied,_

"_He's not the only one who's been in my room for one reason or another, is he Professor?" she looked him straight in the eye, using what little control she had over her powers to bring forth the memory of him walking into her room not long before. Snape glared at her before turning away from her gaze, visibly blushing. Dumbledore obviously knew somehow, as his eyes were twinkling away, and he had a slight smile on his face._

"_Miss Weasley, I realize that some … exceptions will have to be made, given your situation. But rules will need to be set down to keep some semblance of order." Dumbledore had finally spoken. Ginny let out a sigh of relief to be able to look away from Snape all together._

"_Professor Dumbledore, please, don't go out of your way, I don't want to be treated any differently than anyone else."_

"_Then, by all means, tell me what yourself and Mister Malfoy were doing before you were found." Snape again, that sodding bastard. Never could keep his hooked nose out of anything._

"_Professor Snape," Ginny began sweetly, "I'm sure that was quite clear to you when you barged into my room, and then remained outside afterwards. No wonder Draco didn't have to run very far."_

"_How on earth-"_

"_I can sense emotions as well as thoughts, Professor. You intentions were anything but pure, and I can assure you your thoughts were not far away."_

_Draco stood, startled at what he was hearing. Snape turned on his heel, his greasy hair flying out behind him, and stormed out of the hospital wing in a fit of rage. Dumbledore, however, looked as loony as usual, still smiling to himself._

"_Well, Miss Weasley, now that that's settled, let's talk about those exceptions. You may have people in your room, but only after curfew, is that understood? That way you will most likely not be disturbed. Also, the usual no 'fraternizing' rule will obviously be ignored. If anything goes wrong, or if there are any changes in anything, you will immediately inform both myself and Professor Snape. Have I made myself quite clear?"_

"_Crystal."_

"_Good. Now, when Madame Pomfrey has completed her final examination, you are free to leave. Poppy," he turned around, calling for the matron, "can you attend to Miss Weasley here?"_

"_Of course, of course. Now, if you could just step out onto the floor." She said as she bustled over to where Ginny was lying. "Come along, come along, no need to dilly-dally."_

"_Um, could I maybe have a hospital gown or something first? It's just I'm not exactly … well covered."_

"_Never mind that Miss Weasley, the headmaster and Mister Malfoy have already seen you in various states of undress today, not once but twice. There's nothing new for them to see."_

_Ginny, having been thoroughly reprimanded, blushingly stepped onto the cold tiles. She heard Madame Pomfrey mutter some charms, and then felt the matron's sudden breath on the back of her neck._

"_Miss Weasley, _what _have you been doing since you left this morning?"_

"_Wh-what are you talking about? Professor Snape made it painfully clear-"_

"_Not that, I'm talking about this – this – thing on your back."_

"_Oh my God, Ginny, that's the mark of the Empath." It was the first time Draco had spoken, and they all jumped a little, startled by his presence._

"_Would you like to explain, please, Mister Malfoy?"_

"_Well, when an empath begins to gain a little control over her powers, she can read people's thoughts and emotions. When an empath has gotten to an intense level of power, she gets 'the mark'. It's a butterfly coming out of a cocoon, symbolizing growth and freedom. Empaths only usually get the mark after they have full control …"_

_Dumbledore peered over his half-moon glasses into Ginny's eyes._

"_Is there something you aren't telling us, Miss Weasley?"_

A/N Ahahahaha you all thought there was going to be a right little shag-fest there at the beginning, didn't you? No, no cheesiness here (not yet, anyways P). Another cliffhanger, another few days to wait!


	5. Chapter 5 Tears Don't Fall

Tears Don't Fall

A/N: Sorry for the ginormous wait guys! RL got in the way, and I'm just recovering from a serious, long term illness, so here it is! A celebratory chapter!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. He is merely on loan from the Library

**Your tears don't fall  
They crash around me  
Her conscience calls the guilty to come home**

The moments died, I hear no screaming  
The visions left inside me are slowly fading  
Would she hear me if I called her name?  
Would she hold me if she knew my shame?

_Tears Don't Fall – Bullet For My Valentine_

"_Is there something you aren't telling us, Miss Weasley?" Professors Dumbledore and Snape looked at her accusingly._

_Ginny shook her head. As she saw their disbelieving looks, she also noted Professor Snape look pointedly between her and Draco. Sensing the professor's thoughts, Ginny cringed._

"_Good Merlin, no! I did not sleep with Draco! How can you even think that?" Ginny said, apparently horrified. If anyone else had been an empath at that particular moment in time, in that hospital wing, they would have known, without a doubt, that Ginny was dreaming of that happening, not dreading it._

"_No. If you must know, it was …" she trailed off, a look of sheer terror dropping over her face as if she could see something that the rest of them couldn't._

"_Go on, Gin," Draco urged, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "He can't hurt you anymore. He's gone," he assured her, a soothing tone in his voice._

_The headmaster and potions professor looked at each other, sharing identical expressions of confusion. Turning back to Ginny, they noticed the mark on her bare back burning the darkest black. Ginny wept, tears flowing freely and suddenly down her cheeks._

"_Tom," she whispered, looking around her as if he was about to burst forth from a wall at any moment. "It was Tom Riddle," she said again, a little stronger this time. Her eyes searched the older wizard's face, trying to get a clear reading. She registered only a flicker of shock, then all she could do was wait until the force of his anger rolled off her in waves._

I think that was the biggest confession I had ever made in my life. The fact that I had slept with the memory of the most evil person known to society repulsed me. The idea of other people knowing about it was even worse than just knowing myself.

"_And was it," Professor Snape stumbled to find the right word, "…consensual?" he concluded, finding his tongue once more._

"_Not the first time," Ginny replied, wiping away her tears, her voice strong and confident once more, as if she had never broken down._

"_The first time?" Snape spat. Ginny could feel the disgust radiating off him._

"_Well, once you learn that resisting __**hurts**__ more, you learn to try and … make it better," she said, shrugging._

"_Miss Weasley," Professor Dumbledore began, warding off the inevitable battle of wits. "I am sorry to have to ask this of you, but would you consider – "_

"_Supplying you with a memory?" she finished for him. "Of course. But I warn you now, Professors, it's not a pretty sight, watching a twelve year old girl being violated. Especially one you know."_

_The headmaster looked at her curiously, wondering how one so young could talk so … carelessly of her own rape. He nodded solemnly, saying, "As long as you understand what you will be showing us."_

_Ginny shook her head sadly. "No, Professor. I believe it is you who does not understand what will be shared." Getting up off her bed, Ginny walked over and took a glass vial from Madame Pomfrey's cupboard. "Until we can get to a pensieve," she said, noting Draco's confused look._

_Ginny held her wand to her temple, not caring that she was still clad in only her bra. Pulling the memory to the forefront of her mind, she drew her wand away from her head, placing the memory in a vial and sealing it._

_Taking up her shirt and throwing it over her head, she effectively covered the mark that was now burning red. She gestured to the professors that she was ready, and she, Snape, Dumbledore and Draco made their way out of the Hospital Wing. Snape made as if to protest to Draco's attendance, but Ginny stopped him._

"_He's already seen it, Professor," she explained. "He was the only person I knew I could trust," she said, glaring at her Head of House._

_As the four of them reached Dumbledore's round study, Ginny tipped the memory into a stone basin sitting on Dumbledore's desk. Feeling the other three people place their hands on her shoulders, she took a deep breath, and plunged her head into the shimmering liquid._

When I first dropped into the memory, my instinct was to get as far away as possible – I wasn't taking any chances this time, he wouldn't have me again. But no, I had to look like it didn't bother me, or else have Dumbledore and the Great Greasy Git crooning over me.

_It was dark, and musty smelling. Ginny landed inside the memory, the three men standing around her. "The Chamber of Secrets …" she heard Snape utter breathlessly, as if in awe._

_Ginny motioned to them to follow her deeper into the cavern, over to where two figures stood, apparently debating over something._

"_No, Tom, I told you, I don't want –"_

"_Just take off your damn robes, Ginny!"_

_A young Tom Riddle stood in front of the twelve-year-old form of Ginny Weasley._

_The memory her sighed, sliding her robes off her shoulders, revealing her uniform underneath. They pooled at her feel, a black mass around her bare ankles._

"_Good girl, Ginny," Riddle purred, "Now, your shirt comes next."_

"_What?" she said, shocked. "No, Tom I – no, I can't, I won't –"_

_Smack_

_The three men and the memory of Ginny flinched as the sound of Riddle's slap reverberated around the stone chamber. A tear slid down the girl's cheek, a red hand print beneath it where Riddle had struck her._

"_Divesto," Riddle whispered maliciously. In the blink of an eye, Ginny's skirt and blouse disappeared, leaving her clad only in a thin cotton bra and matching knickers. _

_The present day Ginny hissed like an angry cat as Riddle ran his hands over the form of her memory. As the then Ginny attempted to cover herself, Riddle flicked his wand – her wand, rather – pinning her up against the cold stone wall, her hands stretched above her head._

"_No, Tom, please, let me go," she whispered desperately, tears rolling undeterred down her cheeks as Tom removed her bra magically. "Tom, please-"_

"_Shut up!" he hissed, his eyes flickering to a bright red for a moment. He grabbed her breasts viciously, smirking as he heard her scream. "That's right girl," he whispered in her ear, his tongue licking at her lobe, "Scream for me."_

_Waving his wand carelessly, he removed her knickers, displaying a small patch of red hair. Ginny sobbed, trying, unsuccessfully, to bring a knee up to cover herself. She gasped as Riddle's cold hand grasped at her throat, pulling her head to face him._

"_You know what I can do to you, Ginny," he said to her, staring her in the eye. "You know what's going to happen, don't you? I'm going to take you, and then leave you to find your own way out of this chamber. The way it's always happened in your nightmares, isn't it?"_

_He laughed harshly as he saw her look of terror. "Of course it will," he said, releasing her throat. "I PUT those dreams there! They weren't random thoughts of desperation! They were me!"_

_He waved his wand over himself, divestoing his clothing, his cock standing at full attention, the blood pulsing through the veins._

"_I may just be a memory, Ginny Weasley, but I can tell you, I hurt as much as a real person would. Your terror gives me strength," he said, pushing a leg between her thighs, towering over her in all his glory._

_He looked into her eyes one last time before pushing all the way in, grinning as her scream rang through the chamber, tears rolling down her face once more. He didn't stop to let her adjust, just thrust in and out of her with all his strength._

"_Now do you see who I am?" he yelled at her, one arm on the wall above her head, the other hand once more grasping her throat. "Do you see my full power? I'm not some diary lover, Ginny! I'm real. This – is – me!" he screamed, punctuating each word with a thrust._

_He carried on this way for a while, alternating between grabbing her throat and beating her sides. She sobbed for a while, the blood of her maidenhood streaking down her thighs. After a time, she just hung there, waiting for him to finish._

_When he finally did, he released the charm, throwing her onto the ground beside her clothes, flinging her wand beside her and disappearing, leaving her to weep on the floor._

_She sat up several minutes later, her eyes red and puffy, her sides and neck bruised beyond magical healing. As a tear leaked from Professor Dumbledore's eye, the memory faded to black, and they reappeared in the headmaster's office._

"_Is that what you wanted to know, Professor?" Ginny asked coldly, looking at her nails as if she had simply sat through a History of Magic lecture._

_The headmaster looked at her disbelievingly. "Miss Weasley, how could you live with this? Not tell anyone about the diary, about your –" he broke off, unable to say the word to the girl it had happened to._

"_Easily, Professor," she said, her brown eyes staring up at him coldly. "I didn't."_


	6. Chapter 6 I'm Miss World

I'm Miss World

A/N: It seems I'm not very good at getting chapters up. I promise though, it will be amazing :D And I'm going to rework the last chapter to make it fit with the others, to make it seem like part of her memory. Sorry about the slip guys!

Disclaimer: Harry Potter + Becky does not equal ownership, unfortunately. Just a nice rental.

**I'm miss world  
Somebody kill me  
Kill me pills  
No one cares my friends**

I'm miss world  
Watch me break  
And watch me burn  
No one is listening  
My friends

_Miss World – Neverending White Lights_

"_What do you mean, you didn't?" Dumbledore asked, the twinkle gone from his eyes. "Surely, you're standing before us, you lived through it."_

_Ginny shook her head, her eyes betraying no emotion. "Surviving and living are two very different things, Headmaster. I survived the diary, I survived the – abuse. I survived the time after that. I didn't live through it." _

_Snape lifted a hand as if to rest it on her shoulder, but then decided to think better of it, and swung it back down to his side. The headmaster stared at Ginny like a puzzle that he would figure out. Draco just stared at his shoes._

It drives me insane, thinking about it now, thinking that I could have turned Dumbledore then and there to see me as some strong girl who didn't need a grandfather figure watching over her every move. I was an _empath_, for Merlin's sake, I obviously didn't. But apparently, I only seemed like a petulant child.

"_May I leave now, Professors?" she asked nonchalantly, running a hand through her hair as she looked pointedly at the office door. _

"_Yes, yes, of course," he said, but not unwarding the door. Ginny looked at him as she tried to turn the handle. "Miss Weasley, you are to report to my office every Saturday at 11am. You need as much training as possible."_

"_Who's going to train me?" she asked confusedly. "I'm the only living empath, aren't I? At least that's what you said."_

"_I will be training you, Miss Weasley," Snape spoke suddenly, a grimace on his face. "Not that it would be my choice, but as occlumency is close to empathy …"_

"_I'm sorry Professor, but I can't do that." And without offering an explanation, she pulled out her wand and replaced her memory in her mind before running out of the now-open door. She wouldn't do it. Spending that time training with Snape would mean she had to tell people what she felt. That wasn't going to happen. It wasn't something Ginny Weasley did._

_Sitting on her bed in the hours that followed, Ginny tucked her knees up under her chin, wishing she hadn't had to relive that day again. That __**first**__ day. There were many more like it, and that was how she learned to become so cold, so … trapped inside herself._

Nothing much more eventful happened that year. My brother almost got stabbed by a deranged serial killer – almost, but not quite. Damn fate had to let him live. No one would have missed _that_ Weasley. The Boy-Who-Needed-To-Die helped serial-killer-gone-godfather escape the dementors' kiss, which only served to piss Snape off more. Oh, but of course, there was Draco's amazing dementor stunt on the Quidditch pitch – which I can claim total credit for.

"_Well, if Scarhead is so afraid of the bloody dementors, why don't you dress up as one?" Ginny said, sitting on her bed in pajama shorts and a tank top, twirling her wand between her fingers. "The poor bloke can't see past his own glasses what's real and what isn't._

_Draco's face lit up at this idea, a true smile breaking out as he exclaimed, "Ginny, you're brilliant!" and threw his arms around her. "But one dementor isn't going to do much. And I'm not tall enough to pull it off."_

_Pushing his arms off her, she ran a hand through her hair, fixing it. "Enlist the buffoons," she said callously, knowing Draco hated this term for them. "You stand on one of their shoulders, then Crabbe and Flint can act as other dementors. Potter'll never know the difference."_

Needless to say, Draco wasn't very pleased with me when he came back with detention and scars up his arms from being hit with the patronus. A meek smile and a peck on the cheek made it all go away, along with siphoning some calm energy into him. Oh, how I loved being an empath then.

As my second year ended, I learned that Draco – once again – would be spending the summer abroad, this time in Venice, Italy, again with no way to reach him. Hurt, I didn't speak to him the whole train ride back to London, though I sat beside him the entire way. I didn't even have the decency to say goodbye at the station, just grabbed my trunk and left. Days later, I felt the guilt descend upon me, but couldn't even do a thing about it, of course.

A week into summer, I received an owl from Draco (no way to contact him – HA) telling me that he would be attending the Quidditch World Cup and sitting in the minister's box. Apparently, there was a plan for the Death Eaters to storm the camp – we could meet up in the forest near the stadium then, with all the hubbub distracting the adults.

Of course, no one noticed the owls I got or sent that summer. I barely left my room, my jolly Gryffindor family glaring holes in me whenever I came down. So much for loyalty and pride, no matter the situation. Of course, none of them knew about my empathy. No one spoke to me enough to know how I was anticipating their next sentences before they said them. Only Percy would talk to me, but I was smart enough to stay away from him. Well, until Mum decided to get a word in.

"_Ginny, can I have a word with you?" Molly called to her daughter, shocking her into silence. It was the first time that summer her mother had wanted to speak to her, let alone invited her for conversation._

_Nervously, Ginny made her way into the kitchen, sitting herself down cross-legged on one of the chairs, knowing it pissed off her mother. Molly only glanced disapprovingly at her legs before sitting down opposite her daughter. _

"_Ginevra, I think it's time we had a talk," she began cautiously, looking at her clasped hands on the table._

"_Well," Ginny said, feeling the spite on her tongue before she'd said a word, "I'd like to know whether you'll be speaking to me or your knuckles. I can't tell, since you're addressing me but looking at them." Her mother's chocolate eyes met hers, tears flooding up to the irises._

"_Where did you go, Ginnybean?" her mother whispered, her voice trembling. "What happened to you? You left for Hogwarts excited and carefree. You get sorted, and I receive a letter telling me I don't know my own daughter. You come home, and you stay shut up in your room all the time, not talking to anyone. Why are you being so … so … __**Slytherin**__?"_

_Ginny snorted, tears of anger flowing on her cheeks. "So it's my fault then, or have you not noticed? Not a single one of your sons – my __**brothers**__ – will talk to me. I'm 'the enemy' in their eyes. I'm a Slytherin, I'm beneath them. They don't give a DAMN," she exclaimed, slamming her fist down on the table, "Whether I feel like a part of this family anymore." Everything Ginny had stored inside herself for months was flooding out, her words flowing through the house. "They didn't make a single effort to treat me as a person rather than a house. It's bad enough that I'm a __**girl**__, I'm a Slytherin, too. Two things that are bloody unacceptable in a Weasley. So there, Mother, __**that's **__where your 'Ginnybean' went."_

_Throwing herself back from the table, Ginny stood up and turned around, ready to walk towards the stairs when she felt her knees weaken. _Oh Merlin, no,_ she thought, but it was too late. The raw emotion radiating from her mother was too much, mingling with her own anger. Collapsing to the floor, visions flickered through her mind. Her mother telling her father that this time – this seventh time – it was a girl. Time sped forward to her father holding a babe in his arms, red hair already sprouting from the scalp. Rushing forward again to her first steps, first words, first magic spark, first broom, first broken bone, first fight, getting her Hogwarts letter and feeling the love her mother had in every vision._

_Screaming, she felt the mark burn on her back, searing through her shirt as she writhed on the floor. "No, please – please," she muttered, shutting her eyes tight against the visions, breathing deeply to try and control herself. Opening her eyes, her shirt lying in ashes on the floor, she looked up into the frightened face of her mother. Not stopping to talk, she ran upstairs, into her room, and locked her door._


	7. Chapter 7 Perfect

Perfect

Perfect

A/N: Alright. So I officially suck. Lol sorry it keeps taking me so long to get stuff put up, but I've been crazy busy with rehearsals and other stuff. I promise, within the month I will have at least three more chapters!

Disclaimer: If I owned this, I wouldn't be writing fan fictions. I'd have written the books. Which I didn't.

**Be a good girl  
You've gotta try a little harder  
That simply wasn't good enough  
To make us proud  
I'll live for you  
I'll make you what I never was  
If you're the best, then maybe so am I**

'_Perfect' – Alanis Morissette_

_Ginny sat on her bed, writing in a very nice muggle diary she owned. She sighed and gazed out of her window at her brothers playing Quidditch in the paddock at the top of the hill behind their garden. Wistfully, she got up and leant on the window ledge. She watched them for a little while, noting Fred and George's taunting of Ron._

_She smiled, thinking that some things never changed. The smile dropped as quickly as it had come. Nothing had changed. Nothing outside of her, it was only her. And everyone else had changed themselves to suit it. It was several minutes before she got back to her diary, dipping her quill in the inkpot and beginning to write again. _

The rest of the summer leading up to the World Cup was pretty uneventful. My family avoided me like the plague after my incident in the kitchen, and I can't say that I minded. It gave me more time to just … think. Would any of this be happening if I was in Gryffindor? They didn't even know I was an empath, so how were they explaining what happened in the kitchen?

Not that I cared. I didn't particularly give a damn about what they were thinking about me. I just owled Draco and talked to him, counting down the days till the World Cup.

I told him about how we were sitting in the minister's box too – he couldn't believe that. The Weasleys in such a place was unbelievable. I explained to him it was only because we were having Over-Protected Potter with us, and he got over it very quickly.

_Ginny walked dutifully beside Hermione as the group of them trekked up to the port key site, keeping the older girl company while the boys walked together. She sighed, looking up at the sky. _Why me? _She thought, unable to stand one more moment of the girl's incessant chatter about how port keys worked. _

"_Hermione," she said, smiling, trying to seem polite, "As much as I know you __**love **__sharing all the information you know, could you please shut it? I don't particularly care." She grinned sweetly at the muggle born witch, the expression on Hermione's face priceless as Ginny sped her steps to place herself walking alone._

_At the top of the hill, Ginny took a moment to just look around her. She saw the town of Ottery St. Catchpole at the bottom, an orange glow over all of the buildings from the slowly rising sun. She could see the burrow and the land behind it, the derelict little house that she had called home for so many years. So many years, and now she could barely wait to get out of it for good._

_The strange jerk behind her naval, and she was gone. Traveling through space, Ginny closed her eyes, feeling nauseous. Behind her eyelids burst stars, shining like fireworks exploding on the insides of her eyelids. Red – green – blue – orange – the colours flashed across her vision, all combining and exploding. Then, as if it was being shot at her, a face appeared in view, grinning. _

"_Hello Ginny," it said. Ginny hit the ground screaming, her knees buckling beneath her as she landed. The colour drained from her face, her chest heaving with the effort not to hyperventilate. She looked around at the faces staring down at her before dropping her gaze to the ground.  
_

"_Ginny, are you alright?" It was Harry bloody Potter. As if he really cared. _

"_Yeah," she muttered, swatting away the hand he offered and standing up herself, "Yeah, I'm fine."_

_Shouldering her bag, Ginny pushed her way through the bunch of them, leading her father towards the man who seemed to be assigning the camping spaces. She stood by and waited, staring absently at passersby and people setting up their own tents while her father paid and then spoke with Ludo Bagman. _

_One man that seemed interesting was wearing a nightgown – a very feminine nightgown at that. As he walked past with his friend and his bucket, clearly going to get water, she distinctly heard him say, "I told you already! I like the breeze, it's refreshing."_

_Ginny choked on her laugh as she followed her father towards their site. As soon as the tents were set up, she climbed up onto the top bunk and lay her diary underneath her pillow. Strange, really, that after the trauma her first diary caused her, Ginny couldn't stay sane without one anymore. As long as it was completely non-magical._

"_Ginny," came Hermione's voice from the bunk below. Ginny rolled her eyes, pretending not to hear. "Ginny, can I talk to you? Please?" The voice was pleading now, sounding slightly desperate. Resigning herself, Ginny stepped down the ladder, standing opposite the girl sitting on the bed._

"_What is it?" she asked bluntly, no trace of emotion or curiosity in her voice whatsoever. She cringed a little as she saw Hermione flinch at her harshness. She almost felt bad. The girl had been nothing but nice to her since her first year, even with the animosity between Ginny's brother and herself._

"_Um, I was just wondering," Hermione started kind of nervously, "I don't really know anything about Quidditch, and, well, you know how Harry and Ron are – wait, no, you don't know Harry that well, I mean -" she took a deep breath, starting again. "Would you help me understand what's going on during the game?" she asked, looking embarrassed, "Ron and Harry will just laugh at me if I ask them."_

_Ginny shrugged. She could at least try to be nice to the girl. "Sure," she said, "Why not? Just letting you know though," she said quickly, holding out a hand to stop the girl rushing and hugging her, "I may be sitting with Draco for part of the game. Just so you know."_

_Hermione's face fell as Ginny said so. "Look," she tried to think of some way to make her feel better, "It probably won't be too much. No matter how Slytherin I am, I doubt Draco's father will want me hanging around him too much."_

At least I had been right about that last part. When we got to the top box, Draco glanced at me and gave a polite nod before looking back out to the pitch. It was like a slap in the face, the complete lack of warmth in his gaze, even during the brief moment of eye contact. I sat down beside Hermione, explaining to her the game, what was happening, who had the Quaffle, who fouled who. I never once looked back at Draco, not when he tapped my shoulder, not when he touched my hand as I left.

It wasn't until I woke up in his arms that I paid any attention to him.


	8. Chapter 8 Letting Go Of Tonight

Letting Go Of Tonight

A/N: I guess I'm a liar then. I didn't have three chapters in the month. I haven't even had three chapters WRITTEN within the month, and I completely apologize. I have to do better. At some point, I think I'm going to go over and rewrite the first five chapters. The writing style is sorely lacking.

**Never forgot the time you made me feel alive  
When death was on my mind  
Or when you held onto me  
When the world let me fall behind**

'_Letting Go Of Tonight' – UnderOath_

_Ginny lay on her bunk, hands behind her head as she listened to everyone else's celebrations. Sighing, she sat up, pulling out her diary and beginning to write. Why had Draco been so cold? Why had she ignored him? She knew it wasn't his fault – well, not entirely._

_Ginny wrote for well over an hour, not noticing when the cheers and yells of celebration turned to screams of terror and fear. She screamed when her father came into her tent and pulled her down off her bunk, carrying her like a babe outside._

"_Fred, George, take care of your sister!" she heard him yell. She turned to face away from the tent, horror-struck by what she saw. Flames engulfed more than half of the camp, men and women in black robes and silver masks walking down the centre of the site like a parade, twirling the muggles from the site over their heads like sport._

_Ginny took a deep breath, steadying herself, only to have the wind knocked out of her as George pulled her arm and she tripped on a tree root. She looked up to see her brothers still running, a glance over their shoulders at her not unnoticed before they kept going. Ginny was left alone on the ground, struggling to stay conscious._

_Ginny lay on the ground, watching in horror as people rushed past her, the figures in black cloaks approaching ever nearer. Struggling, she pushed herself up, gasping as a rock slashed open her hand. Cradling the wound to her chest, she ran across the Death Eater's path, hoping to get into the woods before they reached her. _

_As soon as she hit the edge of the woods, she took a deep breath of relief before collapsing. She screamed, her head filled with visions of the most terrible things. Women being raped, children being murdered, husbands and fathers forced to sit and watch and do nothing. Houses burned to the ground, families being imperiused. She grasped at a tree, attempting fruitlessly to pull herself up and out of sight._

_The mark on her back burned red, searing through yet another shirt. She cried out in pain, her back arching, her head thrown back in the scream. Ginny felt as if she was being lifted, just rising into the air without any resistance. She heard someone behind her, but couldn't turn to check, couldn't come down off the air she was floating on._

_Ginny opened her eyes, and saw the most beautiful woman in front of her. She reached out her hand toward the vision, wanting someone just to hold her. The woman didn't move. She was all elegance in a way Ginny found strange. The woman was completely naked, her skin having a bluish tint, and long black hair cascading over her front._

_She reached out a hand, brushing lightly against the woman's hand, a shiver running down her body. Her hand had felt like fire, yet sent a sensation like ice down her spine. Her gaze met the woman's, and she felt herself falling. It was like a tunnel, with no beginning and no end. She saw her life passing by her as she fell, from recent memories, like travelling backwards through time. Ten years old, five, three, one, a new born, then what looked like a tadpole, just a bunch of cells attached together. She heard a whisper in her mind, and the woman's face filled her vision. "Athelea." The name floated through her mind, lifting her, surrounding her, caressing her -_

_She felt someone grab her ankle before yanking her down to the ground, hard. Her stomach felt as though a rope had been tied to it, and as she fell, it got tighter, causing her to cry out in pain as she was torn away from the world of her mind. She screamed as the tie was broken completely, the marking on her back flaring to life for a second once more, burning white hot, then nothing. She fell heavily, landing in the stranger's grasp, feeling herself put onto the earthy forest ground before hearing the footsteps walk away, and then the world turned black._

I guess this is where I input that I woke up what felt like seconds later, but in reality, it was about an hour. An hour where I had no idea what had happened, an hour of amnesia. Well, somewhat. I'm kind of glad that I didn't remember going through it first hand, but as you know, all good things come to an end. My blissful ignorance is included.

_Ginny woke up gasping for air, her eyes straining fruitlessly against the darkness. She struggled to sit up, attempting a scream when she couldn't. Her nails clawed down the arms of her captor, drawing blood. She felt more than heard the hiss of pain escape from the lips of whoever it was holding her._

"_Jesus Christ Ginny! It's me, calm down. Please!" She heard the pain in his voice. She gripped his wrists, hard, and that was enough to have the memories flooding into her mind._

_People were running in all directions, screaming in agony and fear. The scent of smoke filled her nostrils, followed quickly by the offensive smell of burning flesh. She raised her arm up in front of her eyes to stop the assault of the smoke, but the watering didn't stop. She ran across the camp, ran to where she figured Draco would be – in the rich area, where the plots cost more and were farther apart._

_The camp flashed by her as she ran. Tents of different colours that were still intact. Those that were simply different shades of orange and black as the flames consumed them. People screaming as the tried to escape the flames, scooping up children, trying to get them to safety, crying out as the flames licked at their skin. But it was worse than just watching it. She felt their fear, their pain, their weakness. Ginny felt it all as if it were her own, but multiplied a thousandfold._

_She cried out as the onslaught of emotion forced her to her knees. A piece of broken glass sliced through her jeans, and then her skin, and she felt the blood seep out of the wound. A sob tore from her throat, tears running hot down her cheeks as she pushed herself up to run again, screaming as she came face to face with a silver mask._

"_My oh my," came a silken voice, cold grey eyes glinting through the holes in the mask, "What have we here? A little Weasel, all alone in the dark, scary night." He laughed, a flat, unfeeling noise that made Ginny shiver and want to move toward him, all at once. She breathed deeply, feeling her lungs ache with the ash in the air as she turned to run. A hand gripped around her upper arm, throwing her back down to the ground, the figure looming over her._

_She whimpered as a shadow settled over her face, the man's figure blocking out the light from the flames. "What can we do with her, hmm? There are so many different games to play," he said, smirking, as he dropped to his knees, straddling Ginny's waist, effectively pinning her to the ground. His hands hit the ground on either side of her head, his face hovering inches above her own. She fought not to gag at the smell of his stale breath washing over her face every time he breathed out. He snarled, tearing off his mask, saliva dripping from his rotting teeth onto her cheek. "Are you going to scream, girlie?" he whispered, his voice like a slap in the face with the anger that was projected into it. "Are you going to scream for me? Will you?"_

_Ginny squeezed her eyes tight shut, praying to any god that would listen to get her out of this safe, alive, and in one piece. His hands dug into her arms and she let out a small moan as his nails broke the skin. "I said are you gonna scream for me?" he whispered, his face so close now that she could feel the stubble on his face when he spoke, his lips caressing her cheek as they moved._

_She opened her eyes slowly, fear filling their brown depths. She looked over his shoulder to where a silhouette was approaching. The figure nodded at her, as if it knew her. She shuddered with terror, and the man above her moaned as her body moved against his where he was pressed against her. She screamed then, her hands grabbing his shoulders to push him off, her feet pounding the ground in a vain attempt to move the man. All she managed to do was grind him closer to her, which made her scream louder, and him getting more excited._

_The silhouette stepped closer, raising a hand, a rock illuminated by the firelight. Ginny screamed louder, and any small mental shield that had been in place was destroyed in that last moment of terror. She felt the man's rage and lust pound into her, hitting her like a wall. She arched her back off the ground as she felt the mark on her back flare to life, the grass beneath her going up in flames. The man above her yelled as a lock of his lank hair singed in the flames, throwing himself backwards, then collapsing on top of her just as suddenly._

_Ginny struggled to breathe, the man's weight crushing her lungs. The blackness seeped along the edge of her vision, the world suddenly sounding as if she'd had cotton wool shoved into her ears. She stopped struggling under the unconscious man, long enough to notice the trickle of blood running from the back of the man's head onto her chest. She looked up to see the silhouetted figure drop the rock to the ground, turn, and walk away, then the world turned to black._

_Ginny's eyes fluttered open as she pulled out of the memories, her face buried in the neck of whoever was holding her. She brushed the back of her hand along her cheek, wiping away the tears. "Oh God, Draco," she whispered, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, pressing her almost-naked upper body against his, longing for the touch of skin to skin contact, just for comfort._

_She felt him lift her in his arms, carrying her like a groom would carry his bride over the threshold. She noticed his shoulders seemed broader than they had, and he was taller than last time she'd seen him. She just hoped he wasn't too much taller, or she'd feel short._

_She smiled to herself against his shoulder and sighed, her eyes drifting shut as he carried her across the now silent camp ground. Her thoughts flitted back to the silhouette, the way he had just walked away, keeping his face in the dark. She sighed again, leaning her head completely on his shoulder now. "Thanks Draco," she murmured, falling into a soft sleep in his arms._

So, yeah, not the romantic experience you were really expecting, I guess. I wish it had been. It was meant to be, I was meant to be at his camp before it even began. Just like me though, I suppose, to fuck things up one way or another. Being late is one thing. Almost being raped is another entirely.

I woke up to my father yelling and my brothers crowded in one corner of the tent, near the entrance. I stood up, keeping the blanket I'd been under wrapped around my shoulders. I stumbled towards them, catching pieces of the conversation.

"_-would use my daughter like that! I knew Malfoys weren't a respectful family, but honestly! Bringing her back here half dressed, her hair a mess, and her asleep in your arms, and you claim that __**nothing **__happened!? You must think I'm a fool if you expect me to believe – Ginny!" He jumped, startled as she put her hand on his shoulder. _

"_What's going on?" she muttered sleepily, rubbing her eyes. "Why are you yelling at Draco?" she asked, looking towards where he stood huddled by the doorway._

_Arthur sighed, stepping back from his daughter and folding his arms across his chest. "It's quite clear that Malfoy took advantage of you," he said, glaring at the boy, "And you don't seem to care."_

_Ginny's jaw dropped. She pushed her brothers out of her way, hitting when needed, till she stood next to Draco. _Damn_, she thought as the top of her head brushed against his shoulder, _he really did grow. _She glared at her family, standing her ground._

_  
"First of all," she said, putting her hands on her hips, "Draco and I are not sleeping together. Don't-" she said, raising a hand to the protesting faces, "I know it's what you're all thinking. But for God's sake, I'm thirteen! Secondly, even if we were, it wouldn't be any of your business, would it?" Ginny turned to her father. "Dad, Draco saved my life. I was passed out in the middle of the rampage. I was almost raped by a Death Eater, my shirt caught on fire from someone's tent." She stared at him, brown eyes filled with nothing but emptiness, the small white lie not apparent to anyone but herself., "Don't make him feel like a criminal for something you know nothing about."_

_She laced her hand into Draco's and walked out of the tent, far enough away that they couldn't be seen or heard. She wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning her head on his chest. "I'm so sorry, Draco," she whispered, "I'm so sorry."_

_He stood, shocked for a moment before he allowed his body to melt into hers. God, she was still so tiny, her head barely reaching his shoulder. He ran a hand through her hair, over and over, comforting. "It's OK Ginny," he muttered back, pulling her close to him. "It'll be fine." _

_She pulled back from him, her eyes searching his face. Dropping her gaze to the ground, she touched his fingertips gently. "I have to go back," she said, maintaining the small touch. "I'll see you at school, yeah?"_

_He placed his hand under her chin, bringing her face up to look at his. Draco bent his head down to her level, pressing his lips to hers in a chaste kiss. He pulled back, smiling, looking right into her eyes. "Yeah," he said, walking away, "I'll see you at school."_


	9. Chapter 9 My Body Is A Cage

A/N: OK

A/N: OK. So I'm still terrible. I can't believe I keep putting off writing for so long when I've had so much time to do so. So here's a chapter in honor of you lot P aha.

Also, I'm starting on a Hermione/Snape story. Look for the first chapter of that in the next couple of days.

**I'm living in an age  
That calls darkness light  
Though my language is dead  
Still the shapes fill my head**

_My Body Is a Cage – Arcade Fire_

_**What the hell was that?! **__Ginny's mind was reeling as she watched Draco walk away from her, her fingertips reaching up to touch her lips where his had just been. Her eyes were glazed as she wandered back into her own tent and up into her bunk._

_She didn't, however, have much time to contemplate this strange new turn of events. Exhaustion caught up with her from the night's activities, and she fell asleep before her head had hit the pillow._

My summer after that didn't hold much excitement. Sure, the entire Wizarding World was talking about the World Cup, including my family, but all I could think about was getting back to Hogwarts, back to Draco . . .

His kiss had definitely startled me. All of this time, I'd seen him as a friend, someone to be admired from safe distances, but never approached. Merlin knows how many times I had envisioned myself telling him about my feelings for him, and seen him walk away, laughing at the absurdity of the fact - a Weasley, thinking a Malfoy would ever get that near to her!

The remaining days of the pitiful holiday passed by slowly, more slowly than I believed was real. I packed and repacked my clothes, unpacking them every so often to transfigure those I wasn't happy with. Magical signatures, it seemed, were only detected for the underage when not encompassed in a magical household.

The train ride was long and tedious. I'd received a letter from Draco, informing me that he was required to sit with Pansy Parkinson and the rest of the Slytherins. His father, apparently, still discounted Ginny as one of that esteemed rank. A Weasley was a Weasley, not matter what house, it seemed.

What I hadn't expected, however, was for the emotional onslaught when I entered the Great Hall. It hadn't been like this last year, not at all, even after we'd discovered my, shall we say, "abilities".

My head reeled as the emotions and thoughts of every student assembled in the room attacked my mind.

_Her vision seemed to disappear, replaced by images and colours, floating before her eyes in quick succession, one moving into another and then another before her mind could process even the most simple. Her voice caught in her chest, her throat feeling as if it was collapsing in on itself as she stumbled towards the Slytherin table._

_Ginny's knees buckled, and she stumbled over the stones on the floor, collapsing onto the cool ground as she heard gasps around her. The gasps soon turned to whispers, then louder noises, fast and confusing as the sounds attacked her in tandem with the visions before her eyes, filling her head with utter chaos._

_She moaned as the chaos turned to pain, a skull-splitting pain that made her heart beat faster and her breathing become erratic. Feeling a pair of arms wrap around her, she fought the blackness that now seemed to overwhelm her. She knew that the blackness would end it, would give her bliss for a few moments, maybe. But all she could think was, _I need to see Draco ….

_The arms around her body tightened as if to pull her up, forcing a cough from her lips. Her eyes shot open, blinded for a moment by the light of the Great Hall, staring up into the face of her potions master. "Miss Weasley, you are an utter nuisance," he drawled, his lip curling unpleasantly._

_She chuckled at his comment, managing to whisper back to him. "I'm glad the feelings are mutual, Professor." She smiled contentedly before she allowed herself to slip into the blissful darkness._

_--_

_She awoke in her own rooms, her covers pulled up around her armpits, the smooth green silk against her bare skin. Bare skin?_

_She sat up quickly, realizing as the cover slipped down her body that she was clad in nothing but her underwear. God, what if it was Snape who had undressed her? Not that he hadn't seen her in her underwear before . . . _

_She blushed at the memory as she got up and walked to her fireplace. She threw in a handful of floo powder before dropping to her knees and thrusting her head into the emerald flames that danced in the grate._

"_My dear Miss Weasley," the grandfatherly figure of Albus Dumbledore stood in her vision, beaming down at her. "I trust you are feeling well?" He knelt down in front of his own fireplace, holding out a bag of yellow sweets. "Would you care for a lemon drop?"_

_It was all Ginny could do to keep from snorting. "No, thank you Headmaster. I was wondering, however, if I would perhaps be able to speak to Professor Snape?"_

"_I believe, my dear, that he is currently in your common room, speaking to the first years about this year's expectations for Slytherin house." There was a twinkle in the old man's eye that seemed to say he knew exactly what Ginny was thinking._

"Thank you, Professor Dumbledore," she said, steadying herself to stand up.

"_One more thing, Miss Weasley," the headmaster said. He had stepped away from the fireplace and was holding a swatch of black cloth in his arms. "I believe you will be needing a new pair of school robes as you . . . lost yours this evening at the feast."_

_Her eyes turned to ice as she fought to keep her embarrassment to herself, reaching out to accept the robes from the old man. "Thank you, sir. Good evening." Without further ado she pulled her head out of the fireplace, throwing the robes around her as she stepped out of her dorm, and walked imperiously down the corridor that led from the girls' dormitories to the Slytherin common room._

_Recognizing Snape's imperious voice as she sidled into the room, she grinned when his eyes shot up to her, his speech not faltering for a second. A flash of anger and bitterness swept across his face, but was replaced almost instantly by his cool facade, unnoticeable to any of the nervous first years surrounding them._

_She followed after the billow of his robes when he retired to his office, moving as silently as a cat, knowing all the while that he was constantly aware of her presence. When he pulled out his wand to remove the wards on his office, she sprang to action._

"_I would like to thank you for this evening, Professor Snape," she said, dropping her shields slightly to try and perceive any emotional reaction from him. A small amount of hesitation slowed his wand movements imperceptibly, but enough for Ginny to read it on him._

_  
His voice, however, was cold and empty when he replied. "I merely did my duty as your head of house, Miss Weasley. However, it would be prudent for you to return to your dormitory and rest, now." His hand rested on the doorknob, his face turned toward her during his response. _

"_Yes, Professor, but first," she said, regretting her next question before she asked it. "Would you perhaps teach me occlumency this year, sir?" She bit her lip, waiting for the snort of indignation that was sure to come._

_Instead, he sneered at her, one eyebrow raised mockingly. "Why, Miss Weasley, lowering herself to ask for my humble assistance. How the mighty have fallen." Her eyes fell to the floor as he rebuffed her, and she turned to leave. "I could only ask," she muttered softly._

"_Eight o'clock on Thursdays, in my office." Astonishment rode her face as she turned to thank him, only to have his office door shut in her face, the faint click of the lock echoing in her ears._

_--_

_Draco arrived in her room as always that night, a smug smile playing on his lips as he glanced at her state of undress. She hung the robes up in her wardrobe, standing in only her bra and knickers as he entered._

"_Well," he drawled, dropping down onto her bed, "It seems I'm not the only one who got a great view of this tonight." He smirked at her as she turned to him, moving over to pull out a pair of pajamas from her trunk._

"_What are you talking about, Draco?" she said exasperatedly, tension filling her muscles as she shrugged on her pajamas, then collapsed onto the bed beside him._

"_You in your underwear," he said, sounding for all the world as if it were common knowledge what had happened at the feast - which, of course, it was. "Your robes and shirt burned off. Again." He chuckled as she buried her face in the pillow, groaning._

"_So no one undressed me to put me into my bed then?" she mumbled into the pillow. Oh Gods, this was worse than if Professor Snape had just undressed her. Now it meant all of Hogwarts (except the first years, of course) had seen her in nothing but her underwear._

_Draco laughed as her face burned red. "Nope. But, Snape did cover you with his robes so no one saw your chest or . . ." he gestured to her back. "But anyway, what happened? I'm guessing it was some empath thing, right? Otherwise you just felt like a magical striptease. Ow!" She smacked him on the arm, holding back a laugh as he pouted._

"_I guess you could call it a sensory overload," she explained, lying down on her bed, shoving him over a little to get more comfortable. "All the thoughts and feelings of everyone in the room sort of just . . . attacked me." Her head touched her pillow, and she slipped smoothly into unconsciousness, exhaustion taking over her._

_Draco sat beside her, smiling softly, running his hand through her hair over and over again. It was like silk, he thought absently, smooth and soft and beautiful . . ._

_--_

_The days seemed to fly by as Ginny tentatively approached her dreaded Occlumency lesson with Snape. She sat in her room, brushing her hair repeatedly, glancing up at the clock every so often, brushing faster the closer it came to eight o'clock. _Nervous habits die hard,_ she thought, placing the brush gently down onto her vanity._

_At five to eight, she found herself standing in front of Snape's office door, her hand raised as if to knock, inches away from the wood of the door. She took a deep breath to steady herself, straightened her posture, and knocked._

_Within seconds, Snape had opened the door and ushered her inside, directing her to a chair in front of his desk, he himself slipping behind it, his palms face down on the dark wooden surface._

"_Occlumency," he began, his voice like black velvet moving through the dark, dank office, "is an art form more than it is magic, Miss Weasley. You have to know how your mind works, how to section off different thoughts, and ideas, emotions even. You need to know how to put up shields to block every other person from your mind."_

_He paced around to the front of the desk, leaning on it, standing directly in front of her, leaving a hair's breath between them. "This is what you have asked me to teach you, Ginevra. A lot of Occlumency is simply instinctual. When the mind is invaded, many times it puts up it's own shields, as if to block out the unknown attacker. These shields, however, are a basic defense, able to be broken down by any passing thought that makes it's way through you mind."_

_Ginny sat in her chair, stunned. She hadn't expected a whole lecture. She had expected to be attacked repeatedly until she was driven to exhaustion. She felt like she should be taking notes._

"_Now, I am going to attempt to access your mind. You will feel my presence, you will see what I see. So, you must try and push any memories you don't want me to see to an inaccessible place in your mind."_

_Gesturing for her to stand up, Snape pulled out his wand and sent her chair to the back of the room. She pulled out her own wand, stepping back from him._

"_Ready, Miss Weasley?" he said, lip curling in a foreboding smirk. She nodded softly, swallowing nervously as she readied herself._

"_Legilimens!"_


End file.
